No More Wolfsbane
by BitchBlonde
Summary: Remus is facing this full moon alone. Alone and suffering without the aid of Wolfsbane potion. But what will happen when Harry mistakenly corners himself with feral Remus? Please read and review, lovely sweets.
1. Early Symptoms

I'd really like to run a bit with this story, so please be so kind as to review or follow if you'd like to see any continuation.

Happy reading!**  
**I don't own anything Harry Potter

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**Chapter 1**

Remus slowly opened his eyes, wishing desperately he could have had a decent night's rest. He was going to need all the energy and fortitude he could procure if he wanted to survive the coming evening remotely intact.

Slowly he forced his leaden body out of bed, his brows knitting in response to the considerable effort the simple task demanded. Already his joints were in protest of his movements. This realization sent a mild wave of anxiety through his system. The symptoms of a full moon rarely hit him so hard the morning of - tonight would definitely be hellacious. Determined not to allow himself the luxury of worry, he struggled into his day clothes and cautiously took to the stairs.

Upon arriving in the kitchen (slightly out of breath), Remus saw Sirius standing at the stove. He couldn't help but envy his friend this morning as he watched his futile attempts at cooking a moderately edible meal. Sirius' health had returned to him and then some. All the rugged handsomeness of his youth had only seasoned with age, his inky hair glistened and his athletic stature blended both grace and command. No stranger could possibly imagine the man had ever been subjected to Azkaban's cruel imprisonment. And while Remus was truly overjoyed for his best friend, it was impossible not to wish for such health.

Interrupting Remus' longings, Sirius noticed his company. "I made breakfast, but it's certainly not going to be winning me any awards. Harry's lucky he's at the Weasley's." His stormy eyes twinkled with unbridled energy.

Remus smiled and approached the other man, but stopped shy as his stomach curdled. The smell of eggs and juice was nauseating. This hyper sensitivity unnerved Remus a bit, but rather than fighting his body he flicked his wand, producing a plate of barely cooked meat.

Sirius' mouth began to open in mock offense at his culinary rejection, but instantly saw the real reason as Remus gingerly lowered himself to the table.

"Bloody hell, tonight's a full moon!" Sirius couldn't believe he'd forgotten. He'd been so tied up at work all week it completely slipped his mind. He sat down across from his friend, really seeing him as he was.

Remus' face was haggard, the skin looking too gaunt and pale for Sirius' liking. His modest clothes hung from his slight frame - no doubt he had lost weight the last few days. Yet what he really noticed was the careful movements and controlled facial expressions of his closest friend. Full moons hadn't always taken such a harsh toll on the man. In fact he had not too long ago managed to hold a teaching position at Hogwarts without drawing unwanted attention to his condition. Well, at least not for most of the school year.

Finding his most convincing smile, Remus reassured Sirius as best he could. "Don't even think twice about it. You have the big sentencing today; you've had a very full plate lately getting prepared."

He tried to keep the mood light, although he was slightly disgusted by himself. Eating nearly raw meat before noon was certainly not how he liked to start his day. It was as if the beast inside was attempting to steal away his day as well as his evening.

"There's no excuse. I can come here straight after the sentencing - perhaps even duck out early. I could possibly even make it before nightfall."

Remus was genuinely touched by his friend's devotion but would have no part of it. "Nonsense," he started, wiping dripping juice from his chin, "You've been on this case for months, and I know how important it is. Besides, I've done this countless times alone before."

"I don't care about what you've had to do; we both know very well it's easier on you with interaction." Sirius felt foolish for forgetting. Transformations were the one thing he could ease for Remus, and he hated the thought of missing even a single one.

Remus swished his wand again, the plate, now full of bare bones, vanished. "I know, but things happen. I won't hear another word about it."

Silence settled over the two men momentarily, the werewolf with his eyes shut in exhaustion and the Animagus watching in quiet concern. Sirius spoke first. "At least you have the Wolfsbane now. That gives me some piece of mind."

The werewolf sighed, too fatigued to lie. "I have to go without tonight. The last full moon demanded my last dosage."

Sirius was dumbfounded. "What!" He immediately dropped his voice as Remus rubbed his temples and winced at the volume. "I thought Snape -"

" - I'm no longer an employee of Dumbledore's. Severus has no obligation to volunteer his expertise free of charge. It's no easy potion to fund or produce, so it was quite the imposition. Besides, circumstances aside I don't believe for a second that he fancied assisting me in the slightest."

Sirius was appalled at the idea of Remus not only transforming alone but doing so all natural after having grown accustomed to Wolfsbane potion. "Is that why the symptoms are so strong today?"

Closing his eyes again Remus shrugged. "That was my guess as well. I suppose this is a withdrawal of sorts."

"This won't do, Remus. It's cruel. I'll see if I can find any resources at the Ministry today. Surely the potions experts there will be able to aid somehow."

Remus' normally soft brown eyes flew open. They were already glowing amber. "I will not have you do any such thing. I am no charity case, Sirius Black. Don't you dare forget that."

The Animagus lifted his palms in surrender. He knew better than to tread on Remus' pride. The social stigmas of his condition were damning enough. Couple that with the constant pain of illness and the irregular employment and you have an understandably volatile mix.

"Promise me you'll contact me if you change your mind?"

"Of course."

Sirius made an effort not to stare as Remus slowly peeled himself from his seat and deliberately tackled each stair to his bedroom. Every bone in his body wanted to help him up, but he cared too much for Remus' independence to intervene.


	2. The Price Of Forgetfulness

Thank you to the sweet beauties who took the time to review and follow, I truly hope you continue to enjoy the story.  
Please leave some feedback if you have the time - Hope you all have a lovely week!

xoxo,  
BitchBlonde  
*I do not own Harry Potter

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**CHAPTER 2**

Sirius struggled to remain focused at the sentencing hearing. He had sorely missed employment. Once his innocence was established and his health stabilized he had immediately sought Auror work. Unwilling to work for the Ministry out of sheer principle he found himself employed by an independent contractor - and he couldn't be happier. Sure the dangerous line of work concerned him, seeing as he was now a devoted godfather, but there was no sense in trying to stay away. He was born for this.

The wizard in question was one Sirius had tracked for months. He was accused of spying for Voldemort during the first war and had remained at large since, the case long since considered cold. Yet Sirius had not only managed to find the man but successfully compiled an immense quantity of evidence along the way. There was no doubt the verdict would ring guilty, but trial was an absolute. No matter how vial a criminal Sirius would never stand to see a man denied a hearing: an injustice he knew better than any.

Still, as proud as he was he was terribly distracted. The enchanted windows inside the Ministry showed nightfall's rapid approach. Soon Remus would be experiencing the merciless full force of his natural transformation, and Sirius would not be present.

Self-directed disappointment gnawed away at Sirius Black's insides as he forced his mind back to the hearing once more.

Meanwhile, Remus was thrashing about in his bed. Sweat encased his body as his temperature continued to spike, leaving the bed sheets beneath him wet and clingy. Even with the profuse perspiring the werewolf still felt cold shudders rack his body. His throbbing muscles clenched and generated spasms in response to the vicious internal struggle between man and beast. Remus knew transformation was quickly approaching. With a heave he rolled his body off the bed, hissing as contact with the hard floor jolted his body further.

Remus half crawled half slid down the stairs, struggling to reach the cellar. Fighting for consciousness he thanked every lucky star for Sirius' absence. Normally the company was a huge relief, but this time was different. This was like the first time all over again. He closed the cellar door and collapsed in the cold, dark room.

All day he had attempted to prepare himself. He'd taken a warm soak to loosen his muscles, forced himself to choke down as much meat as possible, and tried to convince himself that maybe, just maybe, going without Wolfsbane might not be too terrible of a system shock. He couldn't have been more wrong.

Biting down on his lip so as not to scream, Remus balled up on himself. He could feel his internal structures shifting, anatomically rearranging. Soon the splitting pain took to his head as if his skull were shattering and reconstructing itself under his skin. Never had the pain been so consuming. Unable to hold his silence, Remus screamed out into the empty house as the sound of cracking bones drove him into oblivion.

**The Burrow**  
Ron and Harry had been practicing various Quidditch maneuvers all week. Ron had recently acquired the latest Cleansweep model (well, technically the family had as it was a raffle prize Mr. Weasley won at work) and was exceedingly eager to try out everything his imagination could fancy. However, as a cold front moved in with nightfall, Mrs. Weasley insisted the boys return inside. So the two best friends were rather unwillingly confined to Ron's room as heavy snowfall blanketed the Burrow, concealing the moon and stars above.

"I can't believe I've really got a broom." Ron said, more to himself than to Harry as he ran a freckled hand down the handle.

Harry smiled, happy to see Ron taking pride in a new possession. Being the youngest boy in a large family subjected him to a life of practical hand-me-downs. That was something that Harry could easily sympathize with having grown up in the Dursley household. "I brought the broom kit Hermione gave me. Want to give her a shine?"

The boys settled into a comfortable rhythm, seeing to their brooms with attentiveness not common in teenage boys. After a few minutes Ron spoke, "Pass me the trimmers, would you, Mate?"

Harry reached into the kit, frowning when he couldn't find them. "I must have left them on my bedroom table while I was packing. Look, I'll run over and get them."

"You sure you don't mind?"

"Of course not. I'll use your fireplace. I'll be five minutes, tops."

Ron pulled a lopsided grin. "Just don't let Mum hear you coming and going this late. You know how she gets when Fred and George leave her all worked up!"

Harry was through the Weasley's fireplace and into Sirius' almost instantly. Floo powder certainly took some getting used to, but the convenience was unparalleled. He took a few steps into the living room and headed towards the stairway, pausing when he heard sounds of rummaging from the cellar. Harry scoffed quietly; Sirius was frequently forgetting his wand and getting locked in various rooms. Magical homes could be quite cantankerous, and the Black family residence was particularly ornery on even its best days. Tapping the door lightly with his wand Harry stepped inside. Regret washed over him like an icy shower.

The cellar was deafeningly loud. Whatever he had thought he heard was clearly the result of a hasty and incomplete silencing charm. Growls and the nauseating snap of gnashing teeth echoed throughout the room. The thick smell of sweat and blood hung in the stale air.

"L-lumos!"

Harry barely saw the towering beast before it pinned him to the ground, his wand flew just outside of his grasp as he hit the bare floor. The light it radiated dimmed but did not quite extinguish. Immediately Harry realized his error. It was a full moon. A full moon that he had completely failed to remember. "Professor Lupin, stop!"

Golden orbs reflected only feral hunger. The werewolf's ears were pinned flat to its angular skull; foul odor clung to its body. A horrible snarl rumbled deep in its hollow belly.

"Professor, it's me! It's Harry!" The boy knew his words were futile but he refused to forget that a good man was somewhere deep within the recesses of the wolf.

Harry tried to squirm away but cried out as sharp claws tore through his shoulder with a sickening effortlessness. He drove the heel of his hand into the wolf's snout, mindful of his close proximity to the curse damning teeth. While the wolf didn't seem particularly pained it at least had the good graces to suffer a momentary shock, allowing Harry to roll a little bit closer to his wand.

"Moony, think of Padfoot! P-Padfoot and Prongs!" A haunting glimmer of humanity flickered briefly in the golden eyes but was gone in an instant.

The werewolf stalked around Harry in a tight circle, getting near with each revolution. Its matted body hunched low in a mean coil of muscle and bone. Harry knew the beast was toying with him now; it was a savage game of cat and mouse.

"Professor, please. You're a Marauder, not a monster!"

Harry wasn't sure if he imagined the hours of stillness or if time really had ceased to move. The werewolf was motionless, as if carved straight from granite. Some dangerously fragile boundary separated boy from beast. Slowly the werewolf turned away and bolted across the room, violently flinging itself into the closest wall. Guilt and shame hit Harry's stomach like a ton of bricks as he realized not only how lucky he had just been but the devastation his absentmindedness had caused for his godfather's dearest friend. The beast no longer had prey. It had drawn blood and found warm flesh only to be denied its carnal needs. The monster demanded compensation.

Harry seized his wand and stood, desperate to ease the werewolf's suffering before fleeing to safety. With a steeling breath he pointed his wand, "Stupefy!"

The wolf whipped around, not stunned in the least, and lunged straight for Harry.

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*** I promise that the following chapters will be lengthier as this chapter was largely dialogue free


	3. Developments and Decisions

Thank you so much for the sweet reviews and constructive responses!  
I hope all you sugars enjoy the next bit - as promised this chapter is a bit more dialogue heavy than the last.

Sending my love,  
BitchBlonde

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**CHAPTER 3**  
Sirius was just leaving the sentencing room as a young witch came barreling towards him. The verdict had, as anticipated, come in guilty. There was once a time when Sirius would stay to oversee the dementor's kiss as witness, but those days were long over. The dark haired Auror gracefully excused himself to the hall before the Azkaban guards entered.

"Mr. Black! Mr. Black, sir, wait a moment!"

Sirius turned around to acknowledge the witch, her face was ruddy and her breath short. Clearly she had been in a considerable hurry.

"Uh, yes. May I help you?"

"Sir, it's Harry."

Black's blood ran cold.

"He's been in an accident of sorts."

"Where is he? What's happened?" Adrenaline surged through Sirius as his fight or flight instinct kicked into full effect. When it came to matters of his godson, he would always fight.

"The message didn't contain any details, sir. All I know is he's at Hogwarts, Madam Pomfrey is tending to him as we speak."

Sirius hardly heard her last words. With a sharp crack he had apparated outside of Hogwarts, taking to the castle at a dead sprint.

**Hogwarts**  
"Harry! Where in the bloody hell is my godson?" Sirius threw open the doors to the Hogwarts infirmary, his black robes billowing around him. He scanned the room, panic rising at the sight of empty beds.

"You!" He shouted, having spotted Madam Pomfrey. "Where is he? Where is Harry?"

Madam Pomfrey turned to face Sirius. A lesser witch would have cowered when confronted by the blazing grey eyes and towering frame, but she simply frowned and placed her hands on her hips. She had been tending to patients far too long to take anger personally. She knew it was simply misdirected worry. "Mr. Black, I don't take kindly to your tone. Would you like to try addressing me with a bit more calm?"

Sirius' hands clenched, driving his nails into his palms. "Where. Is. Harry?"

A quiet voice broke the tension before she could respond. "Sirius?"

Black whipped around. There was Harry, leaning tiredly against the threshold of the infirmary's lavatory. Within seconds Sirius had him gathered in his arms, a calloused hand running through the untamable black hair. "Harry, are you alright? Please, tell me you're okay."

Harry pulled away, slightly embarrassed by the fuss. "I'm alright, Sirius. Madame Pomfrey said it might not even scar."

"What might not scar?" Sirius pulled Harry to the nearest bed, noticing the flimsy infirmary gown he was wearing for the first time. "I need you to tell me everything. Starting by showing me where you're hurt."

Harry struggled to look his godfather in the eyes. He knew this wouldn't be an easy admission. Slowly he shrugged off the hospital gown, revealing a generously bandaged shoulder. He looked down at his lap as his godfather peeled back the bandage.

Sirius' face grew taut, the color draining from his features. Three jagged tears intersected Harry's fair-skinned shoulder. He'd seen similar wounds on his own body from the nights of his youth spent in the Shrieking Shack. "Harry...that looks an awful lot like..."

"Sirius, I'm so sorry." Harry dropped his head to his hands in shame.

"Are there any others? We're you..." Sirius couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. He couldn't say bear to say: _bitten_.

"No, sir."

Sirius ran his hand down his face. Relief shook through his body like an earthquake. "Harry, you had better tell me everything. Now."

Harry explained how he and Ron had been doing broom maintenance and how he snuck out to retrieve the missing trimmers. He recounted the sounds in the cellar he misidentified, and how he had foolishly trapped himself inside. Sirius made careful effort to keep his expression neutral throughout the story, struggling as Harry continued to explain Remus' moment of realization and mercy. Harry concluded his tale, explaining how he failed to stun Remus and his harrowing escape out of the cellar before the werewolf could maul him.

The boy looked into his godfather's face for the first time, bracing himself as he rightly identified silent rage on Sirius' sculpted face.

"Harry, you could have killed yourself - or worse."

"I know, I just forgot." He couldn't find any words to come remotely close to conveying the depth of his regret.

Sirius sighed deeply. "This is what we're going to do. You'll send an owl to Mrs. Weasley and apologize for sneaking out under her watch. I'm sure she's giving Ron the ear chewing of a lifetime right now. You'll then spend the night here. Understood?"

Harry nodded. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going home to check on Remus. If he doesn't remember any of what happened, which we're both going to pray is the case, we will never mention this. It would destroy him, Harry."

**12 Grimmauld Place**  
Remus groaned as consciousness returned. He was lying face down in cellar, the cold floor viciously kissing his body. He pulled himself to his elbows, fighting off the black spots that threatened to steal away his vision. Everything, his entire being, was sheer agony.

The few pieces of aged furniture that had once rested in the cellar were utterly destroyed. Fragments of wood were strewn about with abandon, shards of glass littered the floor. Remus looked at his hands, frowning at the splinters that gouged his palms. He had no interest in inspecting the rest of his body before absolutely necessary. Judging by the surrounding blood and the extraordinary pain that assaulted him, he had taken a worse beating than usual.

Reluctantly Remus pulled himself to his knees, ignoring what was surely more splinters in his shins. His exhausted gaze fell a few feet to the side of where he sat. Suddenly, his nerves went numb.

A scrap of red cloth. The sleeve a shirt. Shredded. Soaked in blood.

Remus clamored over on all fours, pressing the material to his face. The smell of foreign blood assaulted his senses, sending his mind reeling back to only a short time ago. Green eyes flashed in the werewolf's memory. Green eyes wide with fear. A sharp cry of pain echoed in his head, the unmistakable cry of an injured human. A ghost sensation of tearing flesh fluttered through his fingers.

Remus' eyes flew open as he vaguely felt his stomach retch all that it contained onto the floor. It was Harry. He had attacked Harry.

The werewolf staggered out of the cellar, no longer heeding his wounds in the slightest. "Harry!" He croaked, unable to muster a true shout. His throat was raw and flaming. "Harry, where are you!"

No reply came from the house.

Remus fought his way up the stairs, ripping open every door in desperate hopes of finding Harry. Yet it was soon clear that the werewolf was alone. The worst of scenarios began playing out in his head. What if he had bitten Harry? If he had cursed the boy to a life of agony and social inequality there would be no forgiveness.

Sirius.

Sirius would be devastated if Remus turned the boy. Harry was his life sustenance, his entire reason to not only survive but heal. Without Harry Sirius' life would be wholly devoid of purpose. And all that crushing accountability would rest on Remus' broken shoulders. He had to find Harry.

Yanking the worst of the fragments from his hands, Remus pulled on a heavy cloak. He hissed as the woolen material chaffed his raw skin. It didn't matter. He had no time to allow for himself. Not knowing the sins he may have committed during the full moon, Remus stepped out into the night.


End file.
